


You’re Connor

by ProdigyBlood



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor is a confused bean, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, dad!hank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 04:46:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16866406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProdigyBlood/pseuds/ProdigyBlood
Summary: Connor doesn’t know who or what he is now that he’s deviant. Hank tells him.





	You’re Connor

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been struggling with writers block so I thought a change of Fandom might help. So, here’s my first ever Detroit oneshot. It’s just a little thing that I wrote quickly but hopefully it’s okay.
> 
> I only played for the first time less than a month ago but I am already on my 3rd playthrough and have consumed many hours of YouTube videos for it (One might argue I have no life... xD) Point being, I’ve done my best to keep them in character but it’s my first time writing them so... be kind? <3 
> 
> Enjoy :)

“Sumo, here boy!” The Saint Bernard took one look at Connor, bent over and patting his knees, and then turned, showing the android his tail as he strolled over to the nearby bush and the interesting scents that apparently emitted from it. 

The RK800 straightened up, frowning. With the extensive archive he had accumulated on the animals known as ‘dogs’ he hadn’t thought looking after Sumo would be quite so difficult. After all, whenever he entered Hank’s modest dwellings, Sumo would practically knock him over in his eagerness to say hello. Connor couldn’t understand what was different now that they were outside. It wasn’t as if there were any female dogs around to attract his attention. There was just… scents. 

Not to be perturbed, he decided that if the dog wouldn’t come to him he’d simply have to go over to the dog. 

“What have you found?” he asked. Sumo, of course, did not respond. In fact, he ignored Connor completely and continued to dig around in the bush. Fortunately, it was Connor’s day off and, if there was one thing androids had that human’s lacked, it was patience. He crossed his arms and scanned his surroundings, waiting for the dog to finish whatever it was he was doing. 

Connor still wasn’t used to having days off. Before he’d become deviant, and before androids had been recognised as living beings, days off simply hadn’t been a thing. He was either at work or in status, and even when in status he’d be working on system upgrades. This concept of ‘free time’ was an interesting development that Connor didn’t really know how to best utilise. 

He was still discovering himself and, as such, he didn’t really know what he found ‘fun’. He enjoyed working, but perhaps that was because he was good at it. He had been designed to be a detective, after all. It was all he knew. Aside from work, he enjoyed spending time with Hank and Sumo but he wasn’t really sure that counted as a hobby. 

He wished he could be more like Markus, who, encouraged by his father, had taken up painting and actually seemed to honestly enjoy it. It gave him peace, he claimed. The guy had always been a massive pacifist, it was little wonder he enjoyed the zen of painting. 

In contrast, North, who enjoyed violence, had joined the army. 

Connor feared for anyone who got in her way. 

“Come on, boy. We should get you home.” _That_ got Sumo’s attention. He retracted his nose from the bush and slobbered eagerly over Connor’s sweatpants. The android swiped at the saliva calmly before clipping the leash back onto the dog’s collar. 

Together they made their way back to Hank’s. 

 

“And just where the hell have you been?” Hank Anderson had been sitting at his dining table but stood up as Connor let himself and Sumo into the house. 

“We went for a walk, Lieutenant,” Connor replied, surprised by Hank’s reaction. 

“For four hours?” 

“Oh.” Now that Hank pointed it out, it had been a rather long walk. “I guess I lost track of time.” Considering Connor had an internal clock that counted every passing second, that seemed highly improbable but he didn’t know what else had happed. It certainly hadn’t _felt_ like he’d been out that long. 

“Right,” Hank said, “Well. Don’t do it again. Had me worried sick.” 

“That certainly wasn’t my intention. I am sorry, Lieutenant.” 

“Jesus, kid. How many times have I gotta say it? Call me Hank.” 

“Hank,” Connor repeated firmly. They both knew he would get it wrong again, and not because of his memory which was, of course, infallible. 

“Sit,” Hank grunted, taking a seat again himself as Connor released Sumo from his leash. The large dog panted heavily and Connor patted his head before joining Hank. “So. What’s on your mind?”

Connor knew this to be a human way of asking someone to open up about their emotions. The problem was, Connor didn’t _know_ what was on his mind. Since becoming deviant he’d been faced with a whirlwind of emotions he shouldn’t be able to experience and it was… well, _confusing._

Unable to answer the question coherently and too embarrassed to try and stumble his way through, Connor deferred the question. He noted the whiskey bottle and glass on the table and nodded his head towards them. “I thought you said you would give up?”

“Christ, Connor! I’m drinking less, alright? What are you, my mom?”

So he was drunk. Connor couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed straight away. Maybe he was malfunctioning in some way? He’d run a full diagnostic after Hank went to bed, just to be sure. 

“I apologise if I have upset you. I do not understand why you would think I am your mother, though.”

Hank laughed then. “Fuck. It’s an expression, okay? Look it up sometime.” He picked up his glass, took one look at Connor and then put it down again. “Look, you were gone a long time, okay? I thought something had happened.”

“I understand. I will be careful not to cause any undue worry for Sumo in the future.”

With a groan, Hank shook his head. “I wasn’t worried about Sumo.”

Connor was confused. “You weren’t?”

“He’s more than capable of looking after himself. It’s _you_ I was worried about, kid.”

“You don’t think I’m capable of looking after myself?” Was that… was he offended? He folded his arms in front of him, his elbows digging into the table. 

“Well what do you think? How much stupid crap have you done since I met you? Cyberlife isn’t around to perform their voodoo shit on you anymore, Con. If you die… Hell, I don’t want to think about that.”

Any offence he’d taken shifted into something warmer. He was… touched. Connor was still getting used to all these new emotions he could experience but this one was nice. This one, he liked. 

“I am quite capable of looking after myself,” he said. “However, I appreciate your concern for me and I will try not to worry you again.”

“Not all human’s are happy about the android revolution. You know as well as I that there have been… incidents.” Deaths. There had been android _deaths_. Connor could understand why Hank didn’t want to say the word. He, too, felt unsettled by the string of horrendous murders that had occurred since the uprising. It didn’t help that they all seemed to be unrelated cases, suggesting that it was not the work of a serial killer but of several individual close minded humans. 

“You’re right,” he said softly. “I should have been more thoughtful.”

“Well apparently that’s the problem,” Hank pointed out. 

Despite having no lungs to expel air from, Connor sighed. “I just… It’s taking longer to adjust to deviancy than I expected. I’m faced with all these thoughts and emotions I couldn’t experience before and they’re overwhelming.”

“You think that’s not the case for everyone? Jesus Christ, Connor, what you’re feeling is very natural. Hell, it’s incredibly _human_ of you. You think human’s have it all sorted? ‘Cus we sure as shit don’t.”

“But I don’t know who I am anymore. If I’m not the android sent by Cyberlife then what am I?”

“You’re Connor,” Hank said simply, keeping his gaze level with Connor’s. The RK800 was starting to think Hank was more sober than he’d initially thought. He could check, of course, but that suddenly felt like too big an invasion of privacy. “You’re a detective and you’re my son. The rest you can figure out later. I’m fifty-three and I still don’t have a fucking clue who I am, kid.”

Although Connor had listened to everything Hank had just said, his mind was trapped at one particular word. _Son_. Hank had called him his son.

That felt… good. Right. 

“You alright there, Connor? Your light thing is freaking out.”

Connor raised an absent hand to his LED. That in itself had caused him a world of dilemma. Did he remove it? 

“You called me your son.”

“Yes, well…” Hank rubbed the back of his neck. “Just how I feel, I guess.”

Connor smiled. “I like that. Being somebodies son. No,” he corrected, “being _your_ son.”

“Well, good. ‘Cus you’re stuck with me now.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” he hesitated and then added, “dad.”

Hank was right. He didn’t have to have it all figured out right now. He was Connor, he was a detective and he was Hank’s son. The rest could wait. 

Just because Markus and North and many of the other deviants seemed to have worked out their purpose in life, it didn’t mean that Connor was somehow inferior to them. He had a job, a home and a family. He was secure. So what if he didn’t paint or fight wars in different countries. 

He was still happy. His uncertainty didn’t stop that. 

Sumo came over, planting his head in Connor’s lap until the android scratched his ears. 

“See, even Sumo agrees,” Hank said. “So relax, kid. Let’s focus on fixing the world and the assholes in it right now and, shit, who knows? Maybe you’ll find yourself along the way.” 

Connor smiled at the thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry there’s not much of a point to this. It’s just conversation and Connor being confused, but I’m still pretty blocked and this is the best I’ve got right now xD


End file.
